


Bitter and sicker than love

by mrsshuckface



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Jealous Theo, Pining, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6051946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsshuckface/pseuds/mrsshuckface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maleo scene from the episode 513, from Theo's pov.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter and sicker than love

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Bitter and sick by One Two. Listen to the song, it's Maleo AF.

  

> _Come on and break me down_   
>  _I’ll let you ruin my day_   
>  _Flow through my veins_   
>  _I need a fix_

 

He knew it the second he stepped in the vet clinic’s door: he was in for a beating. He knew it as surely as he knew his name was Theo Raeken. Out of all the lies in his life, that was something he actually knew for certain.

He could hear Malia ruffling papers inside Deaton’s office and with a smirk curving his lips he stepped in the doorway, watching her for a moment before speaking. She was gorgeous in all her blunt anger.

“Can’t find him, can you?” he asked, reveling in how she froze for a second before slowly standing up to her full height. It made him feel in control, the fact that he could still surprise her, even with her supernatural hearing. “Probably don’t even know where to start.”

Malia turned to look at him with disbelief in her eyes. He more felt than saw the waves of fury rolling off of her. It gave him a sick rush.

“You’re not gonna find him,” he pressed on, her growing rage egging him on, excitement flowing through his veins. He yearned to feel her anger, to have her push him against a wall and take all her rage out on him.

He needed it. It was a sick need, one that no one else could satisfy but her.

He had tried it with Stiles, he knew Stiles was easier to break than Malia but it hadn’t worked. Stiles had punched him, sure. He had been in pain, just like he wanted, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

Thinking about Stiles made him angry. No, not angry: _bitter._  He remembered seeing Stiles’ hands all over Malia’s body, his lips caressing the bare skin on her neck, his arms curling around her possessively. It didn’t matter that they weren’t together anymore. The memory brought a bitter taste to his mouth. It fueled him on.

“Let’s be honest, he’s probably already dead. I wonder what’s gonna happen when Scott realizes that it’s your fault,” he smirked, knowing Malia was just about to break.

He knew Malia would never forgive him for saying that: he would’ve lied to himself if he said he didn’t care because he did, more than he wanted to. More than he could ever let on. He had to press on, had to make her angry enough so she would give him what he wanted. What he needed.

Malia lunged at him, eyes flashing piercing blue, fangs already out. She pushed him backwards and threw him into a glass cabinet. As he fell to the ground, glass and medicinal equipment fell all around him, shattering to pieces.

Theo already felt the sick adrenaline starting to pump in his veins, giving him the satisfaction he needed so badly. He just wanted to be hurt. It was a twisted need but it was the only thing that would take away the emptiness inside him. The gaping hole in his humanity.

Malia wrapped her lean fingers around Theo’s throat and lifted him into the air with so much force it surprised Theo. He could smell her attraction towards him as clear as day, but he also knew she could smell his excitement all over him. If her fingers hadn’t closed around his throat, he would’ve kissed her. As Malia’s fist collided with his jawbone, he closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the hurt.

“I should kill you,” Malia growled, eyes burning holes into Theo’s face. Fury was beautiful on her.

“Yeah, but you won’t. You like me too much,” Theo grinned despite the fingers effectively trying to cut off his air supply. Malia hit him again and he wondered if Malia would try to kill him if he pushed her enough. He huffed out a laugh: of course she would. His assumption was confirmed just a moment later when Malia grabbed him by his shirt, pushing him into a shelf and then threw him on the examination table, grabbing his arm and twisting it until a loud, sickening crack sounded in the air like a gunshot.

He yelped in pain and even with his eyes squeezed shut in pain he knew Malia was enjoying this. Maybe even just as much as he was: the excruciating pain in his left arm caused him to moan, low and gravely, and he loved every second of the hell she was putting him through.

It almost felt like Malia had tapped into his emotions and knew exactly what made him tick. He guessed that she could sense his relief, the sick reaction he always got to agonizing physical pain. It seemed to fuel the fire inside her too: she had been suppressing the wild animal inside her for so long. The animal needed to get out.

Malia jumped on top of Theo and punched him in the face, as if testing out how it felt to let the coyote out. Theo felt her satisfaction crash over him as she watched his blood stain her knuckles when she hit him again, causing his head to fall back over the side of the table. The metallic taste in his mouth made him grin. It was all he wanted.

He lifted his head to watch Malia: there was just something so mesmerizing about her being in charge of the situation, the feral beast within her growling in excitement as she drew blood. His broken arm twisted painfully but it was nothing compared to the sensation of Malia’s knuckles colliding with his face over and over again.

It was a thrill. He loved every second of it, every drop of blood he tasted in his mouth coloring his teeth crimson. It was the fix he had wanted, the one he would’ve done anything for. The only thing that took his mind off of all the emotions he was trying so hard to suppress. All the feelings he had for Malia. The only thing sicker than love.

He actually laughed out loud, he felt so high from all the adrenaline. Malia’s excitement only intensified the sensation. She seemed caught off guard, hearing him laugh. She landed one final punch on his jaw.

“I let Stiles kick my ass too. He never broke any bones,” he growled and grabbed the broken arm with his other hand, twisting it back in place for it to start healing. The mention of Stiles fired her up again and she grabbed him by his neck, pulling him up to her.

“I can help you find them. Deaton and the Desert Wolf,” he heard the words flow out of his mouth before he had even decided to help her. Her hold of him seemed to be stronger than he had realized. Malia looked at him with a glint of hope in her gorgeous brown eyes.

“How?”

The power she was now giving him was intoxicating. She was willingly putting her trust in him, even though she shouldn’t. It was the last thing she should do. He was not to be trusted.

“The Dread Doctors. I know how they found everyone.”

He felt her grip loosen on his neck and felt disappointed.

The fix still wasn’t enough. He needed more. He wanted to kiss her so badly but he was afraid that she would reciprocate.

He was already in hell.

No need to drag her down with him.


End file.
